


Wendy and her Lost Boys

by iRockYourSocks



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Post-War, post-war AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iRockYourSocks/pseuds/iRockYourSocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyday she'd lay out flowers.</p><p>Everyday she'd lay out her grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wendy and her Lost Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [beanaroony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanaroony/gifts).



She’d lay out the flowers everyday at dusk.

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Her chestnut hair would shine a reddish gold in the sunset, calloused brown hands gently cradle the fragile lilies and gardenias as she moves to sit in the dirt.

She thinks of messy brown hair, a devilish grin, and charisma as she places down the first flower.

She thinks of kind words and selfless acts as she straightens out the second.

She stands up and dusts off her red tunic as she walks down the unpaved path.

She stops in front of a rose bush and kneels. As she trims the leaves around a few of the budding flowers, she thinks of gold soaring through the air. She plucks a few and moves along the path.

She kneels again, placing two of the flowers side by side; one flutters gently in the breeze while the other holds its place, and she almost smiles.

Her fingers tighten around the next flower, but she arranges it next to the other two, its red vibrant against the dull brown of the earth.

Her blue eyes are as dull as faded fabric as she lifts the next flower to her lips, placing it on the ground next to her. She can almost hear the sarcasm and see his unimpressed scowl.

The ground is wet with tears.

A pair of guards watch from a nearby window. “Aren’t you afraid that she might, I don’t know, kill you with those scissors?”

The second guard, who was leaning against the wall, shrugs. “Doubt it. She’s been here for years, does this everyday, hasn’t tried a single thing. Besides, she has nothing to live for anymore.”

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Everyday at dusk, she lays out her grief.

**Author's Note:**

> Because, what if everyone died at the end of the comet except for Katara?


End file.
